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Void Runner (Sci-Fi Survival Adventure)
Chapter Sixty (Twilight War)

Chapter Sixty (Twilight War)

Dome Security Center, The Carver Institute

Krandermore, Survivor’s Refuge

4453.3.4 Interstellar

Architect Donnika looked up as one of the local Cult observers tried to get her attention. “What is it?”

“Message from the Survivor’s Voice, ma’am. There was a burst transmission from the city’s pedestal. All the data and experiments in the Eastern Labs facility have been destroyed.”

“I don’t believe it,” Donnika said.

“It was certified directly by the mainframe, ma’am. Librarian Abraxxis accessed the data and downloaded a single file. The arbitration committee has reviewed that file’s contents and has determined it poses no threat to this world or the Consensus. They are ordering us to stand down.”

Donnika stayed perfectly still, giving herself time to process this new information. Had Invarian really deleted the data, or was this another trick, like on Irkalla? The leak of the ion drive data had been a lapse in the Cult’s control over Irkalla, easily rectified by prohibition, blockade, and, if necessary, interdiction. She had been prepared to lose that battle. The leak of Dr. Jahangir’s research would be a catastrophe that the remnant of humanity might not survive. Even Donnika didn’t know the full details of Jahangir’s heresy, but she knew that it had been sealed off, even from high-ranking members of the Cult, for a reason.

But Invarian was an Irkallan savage and an idealist. She allowed for the possibility that he had seen the miraculous promise of Jahangir’s research and instead seen an abomination. Donnika herself would have been curious to evaluate the research herself—she had the experience and technical background to be able to distinguish the dangerous from the useful—but she supposed that was a moot point now. She didn’t think even a prodigy like Abraxxis could have subverted a First Landing era mainframe in so little time.

That left her in the difficult position of being wrong, all because of Invarian’s misplaced idealism, and she sensed Nikandros’s hand in all this. If she returned now, she would be censured by the Consensus, and the balance of power would shift a few points closer to giving him control over the Cult’s management of the Survivor’s Refuge planetary system. It had all been a setup—telling her to forgive Brago so she’d do the opposite, sending Invarian down Jahangir’s trail so she would have to intervene, and finally framing her as the villain. It was what she should have expected from her nemesis.

With her gone and Brago out of play, Invarian would be free to finish the Trials, which he would undoubtedly win. Donnika didn’t care if Irkalla was allowed a stay of execution; the Consensus was fickle, and they would come around to her opinion when the first Irkallan ships started breaking orbit. No, Donnika didn’t mind losing. She applauded Nikandros’s gambit. What she couldn’t afford was Janus Invarian running free and winning more accolades for the exceptionalists while she was forced to sit on her hands.

“Respond to the Survivor’s Voice,” she said. “Tell them that we will retrieve the renegade team and return to the ship. As long as Invarian doesn’t attack us, we won’t interfere.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the observer said. “I’ll transmit that to the arbitration committee. Would you like me to relay your orders to the aspirant teams in the city?”

“No,” Donnika said, clasping her hands behind her back. “Tell them that Invarian will attack them, and they are to defend themselves. The team that kills Invarian will be sent home, any debts paid in full.”

***

The team assembled in the small shuttle bay, hidden in a cave entrance over five hundred meters above the base of the cliff. The bay was open, and yet the air quality and pressure were the same as in the base.

“Kinetic barrier,” Ryler said, seeing Janus puzzle over his hazard indicators. “It builds a wall out of air using a combination of gravitics and electromagnetism.”

Janus shook his head. “And we can just walk through it?”

“The field generator should adjust to let us through.”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Miracles and wonders, Janus thought. To think that on Irkalla, an airlock breach might endanger an entire sector, while the ancients and the Cult could just have sealed it off with a “kinetic barrier.” If they survived and made it to Lumiara, Janus would have a lot to learn.

“How far up to the top of the mesa?” Janus asked.

“Two hundred meters,” Vincent said. “We’ll climb and let down ropes for you.”

“Got it,” Janus said.

The rangers went ahead, passing through the barrier with only the slightest resistance. Janus thought he might have glimpsed a hex pattern as they pushed through, but it was a faint afterimage, gone before he realized it.

He tugged on the straps of his pack. Fury was hanging from the bottom of it, like a bedroll, attached by the harness. “You okay, girl?”

The jungle dragon chirped. She seemed perfectly comfortable, legs dangling, trusting him completely. The speed at which she’d gone from a wild animal to a faithful companion was both a comfort and a puzzle to him, as was her weight. She was nearly 19 kilos now, heavy enough to do some real damage if she hit someone at full tilt but not quite the size of one of the security animals the sun-siders used. She’d put on 6 kilos of solid mass, and that was unheard of since she’d seemed to be full-grown when he’d… adopted her.

“You think those’d fly?” Mick asked, looking up at the racks of small aircraft stored in the hangar. They were small, two-seater skimmers with front and back seats and forward-swept wings, like a beetle’s pincers.

“Wouldn’t want to risk it without a lot of testing,” Janus said. “Also, none of us are pilots.”

“I’d take a crack at it,” Mick said with a lopsided grin. “This place was made for scientists, right? How hard could it be?”

“Janus?” Ryler asked.

Janus patted Mick’s shoulder and turned toward Ryler. “What is it?”

“You know you told me to delete everything, right? I kept one file.”

“Ryler…” Janus growled.

“It’s just the one. The last one. Delete it if you want,” Ryler said, “but she wasn’t a bad woman, Janus. She worked alone under the worst conditions, abandoned by the Cult, and maybe she lost her way, but it didn’t feel right just erasing her entire legacy.”

Ryler comm’ed him a file. The request said it was a transfer, not a copy, so Janus had the only one left.

He took a deep breath and played it.

***

Eastern Labs

Krandermore, Survivor’s Refuge

1966.9.3 Interstellar

The recording started. It wasn’t as clear in Janus’s retinal implants as it would have been on the display, but he saw that two months had passed since she announced her discovery.

She looked calmer than she had. Her coveralls looked clean and pressed, and she’d gone back to wearing headscarves, like in the first recording.

“The Survivor talked to me last week. I don’t mean that in a figurative sense. I’m not—I am no longer hearing voices. Part of the decision I made after my conversation was to allow the medbay to sedate me for two days and treat me for what was rapidly progressing toward a psychotic break.” Dr. Jahangir blinked back tears, but she nodded to herself. “The Survivor came to Krandermore to talk to me. I think I wasn’t the one most surprised by this—it hasn’t happened in so long—but our conversation helped me realize the mistake I’d made. By trying to solve all the problems, I was reducing our future to a single, terrifying outcome, and while my work was—and is—brilliant, it can never be used.”

Jahangir sniffed and rubbed her hands on her knees. “I’m leaving the facility. I’m sealing all the doors behind me. Maybe someone wiser than me will know what to do with it. I have to believe there is something of value here. I spent so much time…” Her eyes got distant. “The trilith project may be of some use to you. They can process subterranean carbon deposits, and they’ll be drawn to human settlements. Just make sure to put up mag-fences, or they’ll try to get in. I had some other small projects…” She trailed off and looked down at the floor, and Janus saw a great sadness in her at the same time as his mind reeled from her admission.

“I’ve set one of my specimens free,” she said. “They’re not dangerous. I made them—” Her breath caught in her throat. “I made them because they made me happy, and I want to know they’re out there, and I don’t care if that’s selfish. They’re survivors, and they’re the best of what I know.”

Her shoulders shook, and she reached for the recorder, shutting it off.

***

There was a species report attached to the recording, and Janus opened it. Aithon Tropikos. It described a small, adaptable mammal with colored scales and a redundant respiratory system. More importantly, it had a unique defensive mechanism and, according to the report, would bond easily with human settlers and undergo a triggered growth spurt after it had successfully been tamed.

Janus looked up Aithon Kerberos and found that it was ancient Greek, and he laughed.

“What is it?” Lira asked.

“Dr. Jahangir,” Janus said. “She made jungle dragons as companion animals to bond with and protect settlers if they survived. She called them Aithon Kerberos, which is Greek for fire and a mythical hound who kept the living out of the world of the dead.”

Mick snickered. “Fire and hound, huh?”

Janus sighed. “Yes, Mick. She called them hot dogs.”

Lira punched Mick in the shoulder.

“In more mixed news, she created triliths.”

“She what, mate?”

“Yeah… Goes to show you can have an eye-opening meeting with the Survivor himself and still make mistakes. I guess we were supposed to know what mag-fences were?”

“Too close to accelerator technology,” Ryler said.

“Did you say the Survivor?” Lira asked.

“I have so many questions,” Mick said.

Janus received a transmission from Vincent and his rangers. “This is going to have to wait. Let’s get up there. We have a city to save and a race to win.”